I went out last night with Capital M to see Jill Barber playing at the Khyber. She's a singer songwriter with a repertoire of about 10 songs. But, they're good songs, and if anyone is interested in hearing a mellow, acoustic guitar playin' gal, her website is www.jillbarber.com. The Khyber is an interesting venue, it attracts a distinctive crowd (which I am not part of) and I get the feeling when I'm there that everyone knows everyone else. It's a pretty artsy place, so artsy in fact that one guy was wearing a tee-shirt that said "art slut" on the front. I get the feeling that shirt just wouldn't fly at most other bars and a severe beating may occur if the wearer wasn't careful. But not so at the Khyber. What other establishment would use ironing boards as tables and have old doors mounted high up on the walls? Actually, now the walls are painted red and the ironing boards and doors are gone but it's still a pretty neat place.
I'll sign this off with a segment called "things I don't like." I don't consider myself to be a very negative person but everynow and then something happens that annoys me, here's a fairly recent one:
Groundhog day. It should be banned. I think people must have been so utterly bored and mentally unstable after several harsh months of winter that they actually believed a groundhog would tell them how much longer winter would last. I would like to believe that now people have enough common sense to know that winter will not be cut short by six weeks, regardless of what a borrowing rodent sees. Moreover, if I were a groundhog (and I'm glad I'm not) if I came out of my den after a long winter's sleep and the first thing I saw was a big crowd of people, tv cameras and various hosts of 'breakfast television,' it wouldn't be my shadow that would make me retreat to my den.
Friday, March 11, 2005
It's currently 5:49 in the A.M. I am mostly awake, sitting in the front office of the building that has become my home for just over four years. How can I possibly begin to describe this place? Physically, it's like a great big concrete tower, it stretches 33 stories into the air and quite a few stories beneath the ground. I live on the 32nd floor, I usually refer to it, on a good day, as my home amongst the clouds. Sometimes, my room is almost like a ride in a theme park. When the wind blows fiercely the whole building rocks back and forth in a gentle cradle like fashion. The constant change in air pressure makes the walls creak and groan with an unsettling regularity. If I'm lucky and the wind blows from the right direction and with enough force, it easily opens the windows to my room. However, at times like that the wind rarely travels alone and it's not uncommon for a variety of Nature's elements to come in through the newly opened window. Consequently, not only does it sound like a portal to hell has suddenly opened (this usually happens when I'm asleep and shaves 1-2 years off my life expectancy) but I can also expect to find a pile of snow, or a soaking wet carpet, or a pigeon, or at least feathers, flies, odd little bugs, anything. I can't say that nothing suprises me about this place, because every time I think I've experienced everything a run down, poorly maintained student residence can offer, something new (and usually annoying) always happens. And that's all for today.
ps- the new Zelda games looks amazing
ps- the new Zelda games looks amazing
A new book came out recently titled "Smashed."I think that's the title, it's about a girl who drank a lot and then chose to write about her experiences. Her book could have been called "I was a normal teenager, and drank excessively, as most teens do when given the chance, then I went to College and drank even more: The story of a Drunken Girlhood." You go Girl! ( I know sarcasm doesn't really carry online, so for the record, I'm being very sarcastic.